


Darker Questions

by vega_voices



Series: Imzadi [6]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Imzadi, Occupational Trauma, Pre-Canon, The Cardassian Occupation of Bajor, let's be real terrible things happen during occupations, they aren't idiots anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: But when he closed his eyes, he no longer saw the blue flag and the emblazoned stars. He no longer heard the anthem.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Series: Imzadi [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1404169
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Darker Questions

**Title:** Darker Questions  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Star Trek: The Next Generation | Star Trek: Deep Space Nine  
**Series:** Imzadi  
**Pairing:** Deanna Troi/Will Riker  
**Rating:** Teen  
**Timeframe:** Pre-Canon  
**A/N:** 1\. There are hints here of an old DS9 fic I wrote (that was lost and has been found lol). 2. Events in this are connected to [ What Dreams Don't Come](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760540) but, you do not need to read that to understand this. **Disclaimer:** Star Trek (in all its iterations) is not owned by me. I do not currently make any money from this. But, I am more than happy to help change that.

 **Summary:** _But when he closed his eyes, he no longer saw the blue flag and the emblazoned stars. He no longer heard the anthem._

He found her sitting on the ground of the hospital, a small half-Bajoran/half-Cardassian child on her lap. The little girl was crying and Deanna cradled her, soothing the tears, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. Will stopped a few feet away, all thoughts of a long, lingering lunch in his cabin flying out of his mind as he watched them together. Instead, he walked over and when the little girl looked up at him, he crouched down to their level.

“Cria, this is a good friend of mine,” Deanna murmured in the smooth tones he’d come to understand as her therapy voice. “His name is Will. Do you want to say hi?” Cria shook her head, but she did put her hand to the bridge of her nose. Deanna smiled. “Will is human. So, he kind of looks like me, but his eyes are different. But our noses are the same, aren’t they?” Cria nodded. Deanna looked at Will and the lines around her eyes softened. “Cria just got here yesterday. She’s still pretty scared.”

“I bet,” Will said, moving to sit next to them. He didn’t want to imagine Deanna with a child of theirs in her arms, but he couldn’t help it, and couldn’t help but wonder how much genetic manipulation would be needed to have a child. How much had been needed for her to come along. Which of course led his mind down the path of wondering how closely related Bajorans were to Cardassians if they could crossbreed so easily. But, right now, the child in front of him needed attention. “It’s scary to be in a new place, isn’t it?” Again, Cria nodded. “Well,” Will continued, “I promise, the people here, they’ll take good care of you.”

Cria sniffed and nodded. A nurse appeared in the courtyard and walked over, holding out their hand. “Cria?” they asked. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Cria paused and then nodded, wiping her eyes again. She climbed off of Deanna’s lap and walked off with the nurse. Deanna sighed and waited until they were gone before shaking her head. “She was dropped off by someone with ties to one of the resistance cells on Bajor. Her mother was a comfort woman for one of the Cardassian soldiers. She was also working with the cell as a spy. She got caught. The Cardassians killed her right in front of Cria and then threw Cria into the street. The cell got her off the planet at least and in doing so, helped another of their members get to safety for a while.” Deanna nodded subtly to a window and Will followed her gaze to see a beaten, scrawny redhead standing watch. He was so used to seeing the smaller children around Deanna, but even though the girl was malnourished, she was also nearing adulthood. What struck him though, was not her gaunt body but instead the rounded belly that betrayed how close she was to giving birth.

“She’s just a child,” Will murmured, not sure if he meant Cria or the girl at the window.

“She’s disposable.” Deanna paused. “They all are. And it will be a cold day in Jalara before the Cardassians admit to any of the orphans they created.” Deanna stood and brushed off her skirt. Will followed suit.

“I was going to ask you to lunch.”

“That …” Deanna let out a long breath. “That actually sounds wonderful. I have class tonight and a presentation tomorrow afternoon, so I won’t be able to be distracted later.”

“So, I’m a distraction am I?”

She almost smiled as she reached for his hand. “Of the best kind.” Disappointment flashed through Will, but he pushed it aside. He wanted to be more than a distraction, but that wasn’t this conversation. She had work to do and it wasn’t fair of him to demand time she didn’t have to give. So, lunch it was. Long and lingering and in his cabin back at the Starfleet campus.

***

_So, how serious is this romance?_

Deanna looked up from her PADD and eyed her mother, trying to determine just what information she was trying to gain. _I don’t know yet, she shot back._

 _He’s cute._ Her mother sashayed into the room and settled onto the window seat, her skirts billowing around her. _And the way the news service gossips, you’d think you two were betrothed._

 _You know I wouldn’t do that,_ Deanna sighed. _Not without permission. I am fully aware of my vows to the Millers._

Now, it was her mother’s turn to sigh. _I wish we’d never made that vow._ Deanna glanced at her, surprised. _For reasons other than the fact that the Millers are human and your grandmother still hasn’t forgiven me for that._

_What do you mean?_

_You know your father wasn’t my first husband._

Deanna nodded.

_Your grandmother is still angry for the fact that my betrothal didn’t work out. Not at me, but angry in general. There are traditions to uphold after all. And then I found a human? Oh, Deanna …_

_Will’s human …_ Deanna projected before catching the thought.

Her mother nodded. _I know. And honestly, my darling, all I want is for you to be happy. If William proves to make you happy, and you want to break the betrothal vows, we’ll take care of it._

Deanna had, in a million years, never expected her mother to utter those words. She blinked, blinked again, and then shook her head. _What?_

_Deanna, the traditions of our people have seen nothing but change since the Federation came to us. Most of the change, it’s proving to be good. I also think that it’s long past time for the High Houses to follow with how the rest of our people have gone, and for us to abandon the betrothal concept. Still, what does that do to us then? Why are we held in such high regard if we don’t uphold some of our history?_

Deanna had never heard her mother think like this, and she sat, stunned.

 _It’s silly for me to be thinking like this, I know. This William, he’s a romance for you, and not your first, I know. He is a romance you are more than allowed and one that, should your bonding with Wyatt be truthful, could be able to continue if it reaches that point. But, I worry …_ she emitted an audible sigh. _What of your bloodline legacy?_

_Mother … none of that matters right now. Please, let me just have some fun with him. I’ll worry about the consequences later. I’m going back into Starfleet in a couple of years, once I finish this degree. Right now, all that matters is my studies._

_About Starfleet --_

_That is a non-starter, Mother._

_I just worry about you._

Deanna paused and got up, walking over to where her mother sat. She took her mother’s hands in hers. _You’re an ambassador for our people, Mother. Why do you get to fly the stars, but I should be confined here?_

 _Because you’re my daughter and I worry,_ her mother replied, squeezing her hands. _But I see your point, Little One._

_Good. Now go away. I have to study._

_Yes, Lieutenant._ Her mother stood and kissed her cheek. _And invite William to dinner. It might just be a romance, it might be something more, but either way, I deserve to meet this man who has stolen your heart._

_Understood. As soon as I get through exams, I’ll let myself think about it._

_Fair._

Deanna waited until her mother left the room before returning to her studies. Alone, she took the PADD and moved to her bed, even though she was tired enough that stretching out meant she would sleep. Her concentration on the genetic impacts to intergenerational trauma was broken and so she opened the social contact ap on the PADD and sent a message to Will. _My mother wants to meet you …._ Deanna hit send but before he could come back with a panicked response, another message flashed across her screen. Quickly, she touched the icon. “Dr. Kabralla,” Deanna said to the face of the night duty doctor at the hospital. “How can I help you?”

“Meru, the Bajoran girl who arrived with Cria, she’s gone into labor. She asked for you.” Kabralla looked away from the screen for a long minute and then back again. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Instantly on her feet, her studies forgotten, Deanna lept from her bed and reached for her wrap. “I’ll transport over.”

***

Something was wrong. All too familiarly wrong.

This was hardly the first Bajoran birth Deanna had attended. She had always been in awe of their fantastically quick gestation cycles and how the body of a Bajoran woman was primed to flood the pain receptors with endorphins so the mother felt no pain during birth.

But like with too many of the young women who had found their way here, Meru was screaming. Her body was too ravaged, her organs too weak from carrying the child, and she knew nothing but pain. The screams were primal, going beyond the physical. Children born during war were hope for a future. Children born during occupation would only bear the generational trauma into their genetic code.

Deanna knew the basics. Meru’s mother had died when she was only three. Meru had joined the resistance and had been fighting for … well. A while. She hadn’t meant to get pregnant, she’d said when Deanna had done her intake. And no, the father didn’t know and no it wasn’t no Cardie bastard either. “I cut it off the first one who came near me,” she’d said. Deanna hadn’t needed her empathic powers to know how brutal the rest of the story was. She also knew that Meru wanted to go back to Bajor and keep fighting. She didn’t want to be a mother. She couldn’t be a mother.

Sedatives were dangerous with Bajoran women. The way that their bodies linked to the child meant that every effect was amplified. So, they had to wait and hope Meru was strong enough because sedation or surgery could mean death for either of them.

“Breathe, Meru,” Deanna counseled gently, trying to absorb as much of the girl’s pain as she could. When she looked at the girl, she saw Tasha, fighting so much for survival and so terrified of the world around her. “Just breathe deeply.”

Meru’s scream echoed down the hospital corridor and Deanna looked up to see the medical team readying surgical equipment. There was blood on the bed and Meru’s heartbeat was growing far too erratic. “They have to operate, Meru. You and the baby are both too sick for this to happen naturally.”

Screams gave way to exhaustion and the girl looked up at her, her wide brown eyes almost black with pain. “Nerys,” she whispered.

“What?” Deanna blinked.

“Nerys.” She shuddered. “That’s my real name. I lied when I came here. Meru is my mother.” Another sudder and more blood soaked the sheet. It was time. “Please name her after my mother.” The nurse came over and Deanna met her eyes.

“We’re going to sedate you now, Nerys,” Deanna said. “And when you wake up, you can name your daughter.” She stroked her cheek. “I promise you, you’re going to be fine. Both of you.”

Nerys shook her head. “Don’t ever let her go back to Bajor. Not while the Cardassians are there. But you can tell her that her father and I … we did …” she winced. “Our best … to make it … better.”

Deanna met the nurse’s eyes and nodded. Seconds later, the hiss of the hypospray delivered the risky sedative into Nerys’ system. Deanna stepped aside, letting the doctors do their work. She kept her eyes on Nerys, on her gray-pale skin and broken body, wondering about a boy on Bajor, who had to be no older than she was, who had no idea that his lover and his child were so close to death.

It didn’t take long.

Soon, the tiny, barely breathing infant was placed in an incubation chamber and Nerys was transferred to a clean bed. _She’ll be …_ the doctor sighed. _She’ll be as fine as any of them are. Both of them._ They both regarded Nerys as she slept. _Do you really think she’ll go back to Bajor?_

Deanna closed her eyes, thinking back to Nerys’ intake, the defiance in her eyes, the anger that her friends had sent her here. _Yes. And she’ll leave Meru here to be safe._

_Do you have an adoptive family yet?_

_No. We’ve barely processed her paperwork. And Nerys deserves the chance to hold her daughter. At least once._ Deanna shook her head. _She isn’t the first resistance fighter who came to sanctuary to have her child. She won’t be the last, either._

_Do you ever think the war will end?_

Deanna shrugged and didn’t bother fighting the tears that came to her eyes. _Gods above, I hope so._ She moved to the incubator and stared down at the impossibly small child. “Welcome to Cyndriel, Little One,” she murmured. “I hope we do well by you.”

***

The message was short and to the point: _Will, I am so behind and I also need sleep. I’ll be in touch in a few days._

The hardest part was admitting that the reason he was hurt was not because she blew him off, but because he could actually believe that she was telling the truth. If he sent a message like that, it was the first step to breaking up and he just didn’t want to fess up to it.

It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before over the last few months since they’d been seeing each other. Deanna’s devotion to her studies rivaled that of his dedication to his career.

Career.

Will shut off the communication screen and stood up, walking over to his bunk.

Career.

The words had all been so political. While promising him his career wasn’t impacted after what happened on the Pegasus, he’d been promoted to Lieutenant and then send on his way to this planet that on the surface seemed so peaceful but the undercurrent proved unnerving. After all, if the Bajoran situation blew up, he’d be the one held accountable. But, he wasn’t about to recommend that Betazed stop serving the Bajoran refugees. Especially the orphans who had no place left to go. What if it happened though? What if the situation did blow up? What if the Cardassians forced the Federation’s hand about the harboring of “fugitives”? What if he’d been sent here because they could promote Captain Pressman to get him out of their hair, but he was expendable?

And did he mind being expendable here? On Betazed? Cyndriel?

It was a stupid question. A few months flirtation with Deanna Troi was not the reason to question his career. He was going to be a captain before he hit thirty-five, he was going to be more famous than Kirk, he was going to change the Federation and lead Starfleet with honor.

But when he closed his eyes, he no longer saw the blue flag and the emblazoned stars. He no longer heard the anthem. He saw Cria. He saw the ragged mothers and the broken teenagers. He saw the Pegasus vanishing in a ball of light. Songs and stories of the legends of the Ships of the Line were now just a bit out of tune, and he wasn’t quite sure what would make them all right again. The uniform still fit, and he believed in his mission, but there was so much more to all of it than just following protocol.

Not for the first time since the Pegasus exploded did he wonder if his mutinous crewmates had been right.

Being alone, without anyone to distract him, it was detrimental to his thoughts. But going out in this mood might put him at odds with his desire to stay faithful to a princess he was falling for.

“Computer,” he finally said aloud. The interface chirped. “Play Riker composition program sixteen F. Nightbird.” While the computer obeyed the command, Will walked over to the soft case that held his beloved trombone. If nothing else, his music was there for him.

***

“She’s gone,” Deanna said as she came into the hospital. Dr. Kabralla’s eyes betrayed more than her mental chaos.

“Left in the middle of the night. Better operative than most, I can assume,” Kabralla replied, keeping the conversation verbal. “Managed to slip past the nurses.”

“She knew how to shield herself,” Deanna replied, moving down the hall to the maternity ward where she knew she would see little baby Meru sleeping among the other orphans. “I didn’t know her real name until she told me.” She paused and met the gaze of the doctor. “We won’t see her again. She left her daughter here because she wanted her to grow up without knowing war. Without knowing what she’s gone through.” She took a breath. “She left her daughter here because she is sure she went home to Bajor to die.”

Kabralla was quiet. Deanna pushed off the sudden mood, straightened her shoulders, and reminded herself that this was why she had gone into psychology in the first place. She’d spent time on the front lines. She knew what even border skirmishes with the Cardassians were like. “It’s not our place to judge if she did the right thing. Only to find a home for her daughter.”

“What if she comes back?”

Shaking her head, Deanna replied, “As with all of them, we’ll deal with the Gods when they come knocking.”

“True.”

“How’s Meru?”

“She’s going to be fine,” Dr. Kabralla responded.

Deanna smiled and continued on the path to maternity, stepping through the door and into the room with the infants. She moved to Meru’s incubated crib and looked down into the wide brown eyes that looked up, so unsure of what was happening around her. “Yes,” Deanna murmured, “she will be.”


End file.
